


Chase the Terrors Away

by lifeaftermeteor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: Keith wakes with a start, a cry strangled in his throat. Panting, he struggles to center himself in the dark. Shiro isn't there beside him.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74
Collections: Intrusive Sheith Thoughts





	Chase the Terrors Away

**Author's Note:**

> Trying one in present tense... This started out as a Twitter thread [over here](https://twitter.com/cosmicdustvld/status/1254839912521764864)

Keith wakes with a start, a cry strangled in his throat. Panting, he struggles to center himself in the dark. He’s in their bedroom, he tells himself. He’s safe. But his questing hand comes up empty.

Shiro isn’t there beside him.

The realization sends Keith’s heart racing on the heels of the nightmare. His pulse pounds in his ears and rattles his chest. “Shiro?” he tries, but hears nothing. He’s alone in the dark with his fears, which seem more real than they had moments ago.

Swallowing thickly, Keith extracts himself from the tangled sheets and moves through the apartment, a shadow among shadows. “Shiro?” he whispers again, as if afraid reality will shatter around him. He can’t truly be alone. It was a dream, a nightmare. It was, it had to have been.

Trembling, Keith crosses into the main room and his eyes fall on the prone figure stretched out on the couch. He takes a shuddering breath and closes the distance that separates them, watching silently for a time.

Shiro is sprawled across the cushions. One arm lays across his stomach while the other is tossed casually over the armrest behind his head, dangling limply. His chest moves with deep, even breaths and the moonlight filtering in from their slatted blinds paints him in stripes. On the nearby coffee table is a half-finished cup of tea, his glasses, and a datapad. Telltale signs of Shiro’s workload as much as they are of his recurring battle with insomnia. But sleep appears to have finally captured him...or so Keith’s eyes tell him.

But Keith’s learned not to trust his eyes at times like this, when his heart is bleeding and his mind is racing. So he stretches a hand forward and curls a finger under Shiro’s nose.

Warm breath hits Keith’s skin and he sighs with relief, dropping silently to his knees before Shiro’s sleeping form. He can feel the tears well in his eyes and he takes a shuddering breath. He’s not alone. Shiro’s alive. Shiro loves him. He’s safe. They’re both safe.

Unable to resist, Keith stretches out a trembling hand and runs his fingertips over the flesh of Shiro’s left arm. His skin is warm and the hair there is as white as it is everywhere else. Under his touch, the sleep-calm muscles twitch in response. Shiro inhales sharply and hums.

Keith looks up just as Shiro’s eyes open, locking onto him. But Shiro quickly registers the lack of threat and groans softly. He rolls his body towards Keith, tucking his arms in towards his chest, one of his hands coming up to cradle his head.

“I must’ve fallen asleep…” he mutters, words slurred and heavy. His eyelids flutter a few times as he tries to focus on Keith’s kneeling form.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Keith whispers, apologetic. The words feel tight in his mouth.

Something about his voice triggers something inside Shiro. His gray eyes open again, more aware, more awake. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Keith answers. “Just a dream.”

Shiro watches him in silence for a time, but then reaches out to take Keith’s hand in his own. “Come here,” he coaxes, pulling Keith off the floor and up to join him on the couch. 

Their legs tangle together and Keith rests his head on Shiro’s chest. Keith bites his lip against the whimper that threatens to spill forth as Shiro wraps him protectively in his arms and presses a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“I’m here,” Shiro says. “You’re safe. We’re safe.” As if he had known Keith’s thoughts, as if he had heard his fears in the dark.

Perhaps he had in a way, Keith thinks. Perhaps their night terrors taste the same, their fears reflected upon one another. Manifesting as the darkest parts of each other and the paths not traveled.

But if that’s true...then their hopes and dreams and love must rhyme as well. A soliloquy, a symphony...or the whisper of butterfly wings, the warmth of a hand, the moonlight in their hair, and the stars in their eyes.

Keith’s racing heart finds a new rhythm as Shiro runs his hands across his back and through his hair. He sighs deeply, held and protected. Guarded from his nightmares.

“I love you,” Shiro whispers with all the weight of the world. “I’m here. You’re safe. We’re safe.” A lullaby. A promise. Keith closes his eyes and slips back into the darkness with Shiro’s heartbeat against his cheek.


End file.
